It was always the saddest day of the year.

Despite what the seasonal calendar showed us, it was the last year of summer. Certainly, it was the last year of summer vacation. That sense of dread of the approaching new school year extended unto all Sundays as I got older and faced going back to work on Monday.

I know it seems ridiculous, but I even feel that way now despite having been retired for nearly eight years. I feel the dread of Labor Day just as I vicariously feel the elation of the last day of school; it’s a feeling that never leaves you even though you’re no longer a student.

When I was a teacher, one of my students remarked that I seemed happier that it was the last day of school than he did. He was right. It wasn’t that I no longer had to go to work; rather, the joy of being a student with no school to go to was a joy beyond being an employee with some time off.

There was a freedom enjoyed only by those who were truly free, and a student with the entire summer off was truly free, and, as a teacher, I was one of them.

As a kid, sleeping late was a treat unto itself. This was followed by an assortment of street games with my fellow freedom fighters. Stickball, football, curveball, softball, and waiting for the Good Humor Man made up our daily agenda, for which no notes needed to be taken.

When I was in college and working in New York City, reading books of my own choosing, and buying the latest albums from my favorite groups, as well as cavorting with my friends with no term papers hanging over our heads, I replaced the pre-teen euphoria of street games and ice cream.

Years later, living out in the Hamptons, I went to Ponquogue Beach and enjoyed the last of the Summer Ale with PJ and my family to witness the Ball Dropping on the Joys Of Summer.

The yearly ritual of going to the beach and staying until the lifeguards blew the final whistle of the summer resulted in a standing ovation for these brave young men and women. They risked body and skin battling waves and brutal sunshine to keep our children safe and the adults in check. And, despite acknowledging the end of summer, you just had to go to the beach this one last time to say thanks,

But, going home in the car, we knew we had a few more duties to perform that had absolutely nothing to do with summer.

I hope you felt the youthful elation of summers past and that its passing is not too painful.